“But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. “No!” he said aloud at last. Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue.
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