But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. Sir John hesitated, and then continued. “I remember you now,” he said. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch.
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