She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. 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. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness.
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