” “You’re lucky to live in an age when you can do so. No more scuffling. Then Capes’ footsteps approached. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs.
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