Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. ” Ennison glanced at the other people in the box and smiled. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. But it is no longer necessary. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. . For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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