I don’t see what you can have to say. Then she called a hansom and drove home. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. I am resolved to see her, without delay, and ascertain if it's possible to remove her. Jonathan, however, was well acquainted with the road. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score.
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