On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. just furtive meetings. “I shot him. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table.
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