He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the mystery. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. She asked the girl to fetch Mr. ‘Jacques!’ She got no further, for Kimble came towards her, speaking fast and low. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her.
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