The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. That’s why I chucked Manning. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. I had to go at a moment’s notice. . ‘Yes, I know. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. . ” She said under her breath.
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