‘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. She kept her eyes closed. Those were dreams. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her.
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