His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. So he resolved to try another tack. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster. John knew better. .
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