Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. " "Do you suppose he knew?" "He? Oh, you mean Mr. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me.
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