She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. " "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply. “It’s precious unromantic. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. I am guilty practically of the impertinence of coming to ask you whether I misunderstood your sister.
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