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“As my lady wills. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her. “So you still think of me as husband, even though we have long since tired of each other. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. See? Nothing really. ‘But you will not be in a convent. ‘Here you, Pottiswick.
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