She observed a man walking on the opposite side of the way and looking toward her. Spurling, half aside. " As Ben spoke, they drew near the opposing parties. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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