CHAPTER XXIII. We’ll go to the shops. ’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box. "There's another instance of your wilfulness and want of taste. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment.
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