Wood. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. “Not too bad. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. She entered and approached the bunk. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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