How the devil did you break a picture?’ ‘Don’t be obtuse, Hilary. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs.
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