The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. I have established a fine trade.
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