Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. ‘You mean—’ ‘Hilary!’ Lucy turned excited eyes back to Alderley. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression.
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