The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. ‘Odds were against it. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. Marines. “I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly. Mrs. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago. I believe he’s divorced.
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