Why are you so anxious?" "Oh, if you can't see your way…. Stanley considered. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. Had he found the secret door? Running to the centre, she tried to judge where the knocking came from. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?.
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