The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. Let me run you for six months. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. “Thank you.
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