" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. " She wanted to dance. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him.
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