He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. "Very well," said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, "very well.
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