But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. It was a look that accorded very well with the hayloft setting that had come to mind. Earles declared. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it.
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