She was weeping now. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. He was suddenly calm.
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