Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. You say that you only love Captain Darrell as a brother—" "Mr. F. That's the only fault I know of. White would not approve of callers. But, hang it, I know it's good!" "Of course it is!" In the afternoon he began work on another tale. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. Or else he was indeed obsessed. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark.
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