A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. It was a moment before he recognised that the effect had been similar on all those present, including General Lord Charvill. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. "Tell me that, and I will believe you.
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