Earles’ waiting-room who would march you straight off to a registrar’s office. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. But whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock broke into saving laughter. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune.
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