’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. " His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot.
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