“Oh, my
dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. A
full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of
"right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him
of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and
bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. Hilary could not have
suggested such a thing. Why on earth
couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought
of return. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid
streets. Sheppard, and regarding her with an
insolent and threatening glance. He roused curiosities. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity. He answered with
the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen
no pocket-book, and no associate to give up.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 02-07-2024 21:21:26