’ Her face fell. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. She remembered Taber's hat. Deep silences came between them. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. ” “Perhaps not,” she answered.
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