” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. I have always managed to survive, haven’t I?” She was eager to stop talking about her parents. She winked at him as he shut the door. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square.
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