But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. " "In whose favour is it made?" he inquired, sternly. "I am sorry. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. 5.
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