” She stopped. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. " "Ay, but he will. I have always been lonely.
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