A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. It was finished by the end of that year, each character having asserted itself pronouncedly in my imagination. How much he would be able to do for her. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back.
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