’ Mrs Chalkney lifted her brows. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. Do sit down, dear boy. It is very bad. . Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. It was the girl. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. I can’t forget about your sister.
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