“It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. “Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. "Mr.
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