Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman.
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