“I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses.
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