The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Together they made their painful way to the door, not even checking, in the effort this cost both, on what Gosse might be doing. “What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper.
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