“All right. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. We’ll have some buttered toast. She would end alone. After the dance, they went to a party. "May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollendraper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!" "Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr.
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