There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. ’ Then she jammed her hat on her head all anyhow and ran from the room. 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. Don’t ask me how.
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