A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. ” “Bit starchy,” said Ann Veronica, and altered the key abruptly. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. It would hurt no one. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book.
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