“Nigel, don’t you understand. CHAPTER XVII. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. But her heart kept on sinking. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. She had been careless. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. Even now she was dazed. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage.
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