‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase.
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