Which, if we are not all of us very careful indeed, will be stolen from Miss Charvill. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. Primarily it was her own problem, and in particular the answer she had to give to Mr. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach. Then fury claimed her and she could no longer pretend. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. She kissed him on the bridge of his nose.
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