At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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