She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. ‘Don’t dare address me by such a title. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years.
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