Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. Horribly skinny he was, and short too. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. "There!" cried Mrs.
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