She fidgeted and looked away. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. "That's scarcely a fair question, Mr. To the duckling, peas, and other delicacies, intended for Mr. A curious silence ensued. "Speak plainly. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness.
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