Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Spurlock slept on. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. It made her laugh, which in turn made him laugh. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ‘You are rude, and stupide, and altogether a person with whom I do not wish to speak. His literary instincts began to stir. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. “My brother’s room when he comes home. “So Mr. ” She was altogether hysterical now. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation.
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