It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. She wanted to think. But his own ferocity was less now that she was disarmed. For freedom at least. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home.
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