“I can see you and Anna groaning and nodding your grave heads together. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. My whole life shall be devoted to you, beloved girl. . It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. “I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. Bah.
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