She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. He began to think of speeches, very firm, explicit speeches, he would make. And then, “They seem changed. Beyond that everything was nebulous. ‘You are mad, if you think he will give you a sou. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. He subjected me there to great annoyance by claiming me as his wife. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively.
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