The weed was all right. I've got to know why. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. It hardly served his interests. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. I’ve tried to use my authority. ‘Leave it, imbecile. It was ended. I followed, taking up hunting so that way I could track you, to make sure you would become well again. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. ‘Looks like it. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. I didn’t allow myself to see things as they were in those days; now I do. E.
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