‘Cajolery? This is not your style. “Thanks, Cathy. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. She entered the kitchen. Jonathan had not deceived him.
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