I’m not half smart enough for the West End. . “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. What would it be without that safeguard?” Ogilvy pursued his own topic. "I began to fear, from his having quitted the old place, that some misfortune must have befallen him. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. “What can you do?” she asked.
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