Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. Voilà tout. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. ‘Hilary was right.
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