“Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. You will leave me utterly distraught.
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