. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. Sheppard towards an appalling object in one corner. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan.
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