He turned back at once. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. He drew her closer. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark.
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