"You can, of course, identify this picture as Lady Trafford's property?" pursued Jonathan, with a meaning glance, as he handed it to the knight. He let go of the girl’s arm. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. An incredible road he had elected to travel; he granted that it was incredible; and along this road somewhere would be Desire. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything.
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