"Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. And when Manning was not about the thing seemed simple enough. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Or appeared to do so. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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