Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. It doesn't look bad, does it?" "Mercy, no! That wasn't the thought. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. "The whole thing in a nutshell!" "Are there no men a woman may trust absolutely?" "Hang it, that isn't it.
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