” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. As he anticipated, he was here comparatively screened from the fury of the wind; and when he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible through the darkness in a glistening sheet of foam, his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential deliverance. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria.
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