” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. I don’t love you. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat.
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