She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. They do not come for me, to find me and bring me home. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it.
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