But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. Her anger died and she eyed him. ‘Come, I told you I wish to know everything about you. She seemed honestly glad to see him. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. 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. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City.
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