“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. No wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change his mind. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. . “You will not even answer my letters. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. " "Horrible!" cried Mrs.
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