But oh, how weary I am! I know. At this moment, the bell began to toll in a peculiar manner, announcing the approach of the corpse. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. 266 She peered up at him. For so far she had kept it uncashed. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. I asked him—to take me away.
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