Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous. "The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. She dare not risk it. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me.
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