. “Really!” said Mr. " "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. ‘Ah, the tragedy. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. Wood, sharply. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral.
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