He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. . Then he turned on his heel and walked off. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse.
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