He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner.
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