Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. Then she was out of the door and running, fast. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. But that instinct is severely dampened most of the time.
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