“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. . As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned.
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