I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. 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. "So she got away as far as this, eh? But where does she come in?" The doctor recounted that side of the tale.
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