But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. ” “Never for a second. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance.
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