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"Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. There was a flash and a loud report. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. The room seemed a vacuum. They would be partners only in loneliness.
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