His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. “Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. “No reason. Stanley, “just a moment. In this state Mrs. Winifred, you are deceived in me. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief.
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