What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. “Mrs. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. She kissed Cathy's soft cheek as she entered the warm kitchen.
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