’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. ’ He added on a teasing note, ‘Though if there’s anything suspicious we can always get the key from Pottiswick. . It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things.
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