She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. “Yes. Sometimes I am frightfully busy; and then there will be periods of dullness. ” He adjusted his glasses on his nose.
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