"But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. “I hope that Mr. . “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense. Niente. Old Lancashire families both. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. "Where are you?" "Here," replied Mrs. . I could not keep away any longer.
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