” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone. ‘I must get a handkerchief. Her situation was perplexing her very much, and the Widgett atmosphere was lax and sympathetic, and provocative of discussion. Blood, they say, won't come out. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work.
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