The parlour was cluttered but cosy. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. "I could have sworn I saw him enter this passage. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. “After all, it’s our honeymoon.
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