And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. She had just passed into a little antechamber beyond when she suddenly heard a faint knocking. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. I spent my fair share of time in the closet. It was a mass of knick-knacks.
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