“Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. She shuddered. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. Come. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. Now if you are ready to go with me, I too am ready. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society.
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