And experience was slow in coming. She ought to have leapt back on guard. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Little by little Sebastian gave to her the story of how she came to be abducted.
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