But those days are over—quite over. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. . She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly.
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