The woman I wanted was another man's wife. . He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ‘Of course it is,’ corroborated Hilary. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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