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Mrs. Sairson came timidly into her husband's dressing-room. All the same, there was a tinge of pink in the delicate color of her checks, and her eyes were steadfast. Sairson, struggling into a Norfolk jacket, gave her a surly nod. He looked a grotesque character in the rough Harris tweeds he affected when in the country.
If there were any choice, as Nest said candidly, she preferred her father in frock coat and silk hat, even if he were striding along a country lane.