The rain had drawn off; and amid the moving vapours from point to point of light the city was spinning about herself a soft cocoon of yellowish haze. "Quint?" "Peter Quint--his own man, his valet, when he was here!" "When the master was?" Gaping still, but meeting me, she pieced it all together. Clongowes is my dwellingplace And heaven my expectation. XI It was not till late next day that I spoke to Mrs.
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