” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him.
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