She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. “Yes, mostly. ‘Dear me. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. She heard their feet and muffled voices. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile. I may want you. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway.
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