“I am sure of it. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. ‘Can’t see a thing. You are too credulous. He felt her relaxation and let go of her wrists. Now tell them why. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws.
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