Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. “Tell her,” said Mr. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Can you lend me some stuff?” “You ARE a chap!” said Constance, and warmed only slowly from the idea of dissuasion to the idea of help. Part 6 He became quite sure, by a sort of accumulation of reflection, as the day wore on. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him.
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