They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. ‘I am not French in the least, bête. That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts.
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