I wasn’t. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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