“Anna,” he cried eagerly. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. “No, he grabbed my hand. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair.
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