“I am dying to renew my acquaintance with London, Mrs. She shook her head. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively.
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