Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. “Do come and see the Michaelmas daisies at the end of the garden,” said Mr. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile.
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