" Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. "But, we'll soon see. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. "I disbelieve the whole story you have told me. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. Lucy wore it every day from then on. The next few hours will tell. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized.
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