" "Where—where?" cried Thames. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. Then he took me out to Monteaux, on a motor. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe.
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