"So, the Mohocks have been at work, I perceive," remarked Quilt, as he drew near the group. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. Think how free that leaves me to follow things up! I must take you everywhere. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Still, I am curious. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time.
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