She crushed the letter in her hand. ’ ‘What is all this about your proof?’ demanded Roding, diverted. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed.
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