“Oh. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. Winifred instantly picked it up.
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