There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. She could feel her face turning beet red. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance.
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