‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them.
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