Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. “You will have some tea?” she asked. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. It looks so French to be affectionate. We're lost. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard.
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