"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. No, never mind about thanking me. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms.
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