‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away. Glad to escape from the scene of recrimination that ensued between his adopted parents, Thames seized the earliest opportunity of retiring, and took his way to a small chamber in the upper part of the house, where he and Jack were accustomed to spend most of their leisure in the amusements, or pursuits, proper to their years. I would even have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew.
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