Part 2 She found the younger generation of the Widgetts engaged in languid reminiscences, and all, as they expressed it, a “bit decayed. You do not understand, and you would like to. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. A piece of seaweed touched her hand, tender and green. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped.
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