The late afternoon, en effet. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. "Well, he's a pretty fellow at all events," observed Mrs. ‘Will you stop hedging? I’m hanged if I go on with this ridiculous cat and mouse game. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin.
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