She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. ” The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and hesitated. Lovers' confidences should be respected. " She had no reason to doubt him. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. I hate children.
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