The rector looked at him in silence and he could feel the blood rising to his face and the tears about to rise to his eyes. Grose tried to keep up with me. When the fit had spent itself he walked weakly to the window and, lifting the sash, sat in a corner of the embrasure and leaned his elbow upon the sill. Disheartened, he raised his eyes towards the slow-drifting clouds, dappled and seaborne.
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