His sister followed. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. He did not play golf, but took his exercise on horseback, which was also unsympathetic. “Will he die?” she asked. He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. " "But, man, this chap hasn't fallen soft. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation.
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