He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest.
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