"Very well, Mr. ” She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. “Is there any urgency?” The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. Look at it, I say. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism.
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