“I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Not only that, but he is here in London. I can’t even make myself care. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him.
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