Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. She was no longer a confederate in that. 7. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. Half French. Buck up. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town.
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