She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. “I wonder what you could do?” he said. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. How long has Miss Charvill been in England?’ ‘Not long, sir.
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