She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. "Tut, tut! Don't exaggerate. I'll remember that. "I'm never satisfied with a first attempt. He seemed too noisy. “You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you.
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