“And yet you still live, Butterfly. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. "Leave him to me," he said. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. Queens and Kings, as always, were made to be manipulated. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. Yes. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door.
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