He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. \" \"It's okay. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station.
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