‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. . Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire.
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