There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. She led him up the long hall solemnly. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately.
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