“Okay. “I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. ’ Alderley grinned as his incensed friend refuted the suggestion that he was in need of a pacifier, and moved to the tray which his butler had just a short time past brought into the room and laid on the desk. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. He smiled complacently. Such stories were increasingly heard in English society. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice.
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