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I was to blame to carry the matter so far. Brown or Jones, I dare say. It seemed at this moment, however, that there was not going to be any “fun”, and Captain Roding said so. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. Rummage, my boy, do. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven.
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