“Mere sensuality. You notice that I have recently spent ten francs on a box of the best Russian cigarettes, and that there are roses upon my table. Can’t face a scandal. Be so good as to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in the face. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. “He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery. Earles answered, glibly. Then he threw the letter at me. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. She pushed him gently on the chest. He reeled, and crashed to the floor. " He did not reply. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside.
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