But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently.
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