This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. It was painful to want him so much. Better get back now! You be careful. . How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. " "Come along," thundered Jonathan. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly.
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