A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. The doctor would naturally offer a hundred objections; he might seriously interfere; so he must be forestalled. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. “My God!” he said again. “I am much obliged to you,” he said. Some one was standing beside him.
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