She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, “by post. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Amid this skirmish Jonathan greatly distinguished himself. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour.
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