They took their places at a distant table. “On or about the day you receive this letter, Anna, the six months will be up. Do you know, I envy you. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. It is not at all comme il faut. " Mrs. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion.
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