“What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. Unless they remind him now and then not to. New customs have prevailed over the old.
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