The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. "You must have travelled a good deal to know so much about men. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait.
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