” Her hand fell back into her lap. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. " "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. I guess. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks. A maidservant held the front door open. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. My garden-close would be a better thing than that.
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