It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. CHAPTER XII. “Wasn’t Parliament to reassemble?” He put out his hand and leaned against a tree and crossed his legs. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands.
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