Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. His arm fell to his side. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. D'ye hear. I wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face.
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