Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Very glad.
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