” He frowned. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles.
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