“Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. She entered the last room, his bedroom. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. ” She stopped, and then suggested: “I wonder—I should love—if it was anything I said.
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