How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. ’ She frowned suddenly. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. Now, more and more, we’re going to be interested in them, to be curious about them and—quite mildly-experimental with them. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. " "Pray cease this nonsense," said Winifred, "and quit the room, or I will call for assistance. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch.
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