Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. You will also become a very rich man, though I wish that the circumstances had been different. They were the same. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think.
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