His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. Sheila was often a terror to her husband Mark, who seemed afraid of her. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. I am not come here to play the part of your father-confessor. E.
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