You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. "Pah! He's a fool. “Of course I mean, who was she?” “I believe that her name was Pellissier,” Ennison answered. “Cheveney!” she repeated. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all.
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