’ So saying, he pulled her forward, slipping her arms about his back. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. “What is the exact force of a motif?” she asked at random. In Old Palace Yard everybody ran. She pointed across the road. She told us that it was a disguise. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. Now," he added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, "help me on with them.
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