. “Go on,” he said. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. " "If it were so, he would have great reason to be proud of the relationship, truly," observed Wood, shrugging his shoulders. “She can’t. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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