With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. See paragraph 1. ‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies.
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