"My friends, Mr. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter.
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