Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. " "I know what is good," she replied. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. . All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features.
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