This time you cannot. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both.
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