’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. “I expected to stay with a relation, but I found that their arrangements did not allow of it. He knew me, Nigel. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. “You must not think of me as one. Me, you may have.
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