Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise.
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