Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. ’ The reference to Major Alderley’s wounds reminded Melusine all at once of the fight they’d had, and its consequence. Men were going hither and thither with barrows, and ladders and ropes, removing the rubbish, and trying to support the tottering habitations.
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