" "It matters not, Norris," replied Lady Trafford: "I would rather die on the road, than be exposed to another such scene as I have just encountered. He was not due from the City until about six, and so she went and played Badminton with the Widgett girls until dinner-time. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. He did not even care for his own inheritance at this place in Wodeham Water. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. She knew she was a monster and so did they. I've opened the case of books.
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