He began to tell me something—and stopped. Then she sang. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ’ ‘On the contrary. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. Your reputation for hospitality would remain under a cloud though, for tea was distinctly mentioned. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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