" And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. You do not need my compliments. “I shall leave the flat to you and go to a hotel. ” “Then perhaps,” she answered, with a new coldness in her tone, “perhaps I really do not care. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her.
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