“If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. They compromised at length on the science course at the Tredgold Women’s College—she had already matriculated into London University from school—she came of age, and she bickered with her aunt for latch-key privileges on the strength of that and her season ticket.
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