She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Sir John once more looked around him. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. ” He uttered thoughtfully. “It is just six o’clock now. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. Wood resounded from below.
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