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Chapter 2

           (Hehadbeenkilledbythesplinterofashellinstantly,shebethoughther.)Thekitchentablewassomethingvisionary,austere;somethingbare,hard,notornamental.Therewasnocolourtoit;itwasalledgesandangles;itwasuncompromisinglyplain.ButMr.Ramsaykeptalwayshiseyesfixeduponit,neverallowedhimselftobedistractedordeluded,untilhisfacebecameworntooandasceticandpartookofthisunornamentedbeautywhichsodeeplyimpressedher.Then,sherecalled(standingwherehehadlefther,holdingherbrush),worrieshadfretteditnotsonobly.Hemusthavehadhisdoubtsaboutthattable,shesupposed;whetherthetablewasarealtable;whetheritwasworththetimehegavetoit;whetherhewasableafteralltofindit.Hehadhaddoubts,shefelt,orhewouldhaveaskedlessofpeople.Thatwaswhattheytalkedaboutlateatnightsometimes,shesuspected;andthennextdayMrs.Ramsaylookedtired,andLilyflewintoaragewithhimoversomeabsurdlittlething.Butnowhehadnobodytotalktoaboutthattable,orhisboots,orhisknots;andhewaslikealionseekingwhomhecoulddevour,andhisfacehadthattouchofdesperation,ofexaggerationinitwhichalarmedher,andmadeherpullherskirtsabouther

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