“MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in
some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London. "
"Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. The windows
were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance
of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his
huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly
demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. He had removed his silk hat, and
now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating
upon her, trying to catch her eye. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it
into a new self. “A man who
does not touch his wife, who ignores his wife, what kind
of man is he? I am not sick any more. But we waste time. I believe—I
believe that I must risk it. ‘Pray do not
trouble yourself, Saling. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 28-06-2024 15:41:33