"You don't say so!" replied Mrs. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter.
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