Witness Browning. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. She had a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her sister—was a lady. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. I had done the most compromising things, and behaved in the most ridiculous way.
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