She had the dowry she needed for the lawyers were working to give her Remenham House. "I shall like to call you that. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. The strong potation he had taken, combined with fatigue and anxiety he had previously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. “It was,” she admitted. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. One OUGHT to want to please her.
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