’ The lodgekeeper had been in fine fettle by the time Major Alderley had produced his investigatory force at the gates. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him.
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