Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. Never since I was a girl have I seen your father so moved. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. ’ ‘Alas. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. More than ever a sense of confusion was upon Ennison.
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