"Abigail, hush dear," said Mrs. Mary Walker across the sitting room. "It is a mercy these days to have one's things in order. A taxman's life cannot be the most pleasant, to be sure, but it is the profession of the most reliable type of man, and considering the indiscretions of your past, this is most certainly a good match!"
"I could never love a man such as Mr. Parker, mama," Abigail replied, rearranging her bustle in discomfort, perched on a straight-backed chair.
"Blast!," interjected Mr. Walker, "All this nonsense gets us nowhere. Now where's my handkerchief gone to? I'm telling you, the walls in this house are damp."
"They most certainly are not!," rebuffed Mrs. Walker, and then all kept quiet for a while.
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