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Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. “I wish. I've sent for the priest. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. The commissionaire smiled. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. He walked in her direction. “Ann Veronica,” he said. "It looks as though, we should go together," he said, pulling her toward him. Only you good ones— shirk. "I will struggle no longer with destiny. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her.
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