” Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. “Why not?” he exclaimed. I wasn't taught that; I simply fell into it from contact. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. His complexion was as blue as a sailor's jacket, and though Mr.
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