‘Come, Hilary. She ran to the lamp and extinguished it. Then Mr. Well, this is OUR thing. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. Heaven alone knows why. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. He sent me flowers. Manning. Men usually do. Then she realized that it was her business to let Manning talk and impose his own interpretations upon the situation so far as he was concerned.
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