“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. He sent me flowers. She answered him with another kiss, long and deep. “I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. I never realized how fabulous all those homemade dishes were. Sebastian rose from the tomb. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. But I can't submit to hear the wellearned reputation of my friend termed an 'infamous notoriety.
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