The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. Upon this grateful animal she lavished that affection which was subtly repelled by its lawful object. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect.
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