. V. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. Let her have her own way in all things, for she will always be just. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. As he moved about upon the starling, Mr. Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school. She had not even endorsed it. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of.
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