’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Manning. "Do not—do not!" "He must!" thundered Jonathan, "or he goes to jail. And here, we may be permitted to offer an observation upon the peculiar and unaccountable influence which ladies of a shrewish turn so frequently exercise over—we can scarcely, in this case, say—their lords and masters; an influence which seems not merely to extend to the will of the husband, but even to his inclinations.
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