” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. Wait a second. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. You are much more like what I was then. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. She drank her glass of wine, however, and clanked glasses good-naturedly with Mr.
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