It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. Captain Roding strode into the parlour. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. Manning at last broke down by coming directly at her as she talked with the vicar’s aunt about some of the details of the alleged smell of the new church lamps.
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