That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. It'll be your turn to save mine next. There was no response. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed.
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