The Denunciation. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her.
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