“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. ‘Soldier of fortune. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. She and I were very close.
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