‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. Absolutely. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. . ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. "By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an instant.
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