Passing thought. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. She was the High Priestess.
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