He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. It felt too good. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. The other individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed from the stranger's view. Fortescue, with a bow. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. “It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them.
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