She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. Sheppard," rejoined Winifred kindly. ” “Mr. ” “Relaxation, perhaps. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. Wood. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. “Tut, tut!” he said. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance.
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