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Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. Don't feel fussed upon my account. Charvill’s fury was burning out. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. This—this shatters a world!” She tried to feel sorry, but her sense of his immense egotism was strong and clear. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man.
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