’ Gerald was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. But you must tell her. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. I will tell you our plans on the way to the station. Marvel, who, as he had helped to deprive her of her former husbands, thought himself in duty bound to offer to supply their place. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat.
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