’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. ’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. ” The doctor looked at her thoughtfully. ” He said with a laugh. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. " "For shame, Mr.
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