Plote was sleeping or deaf. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. "I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. " "Mr. Woof! What a dog.
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