The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ’ He endured the inevitable scold with patience, saluted Mrs Chalkney’s faded cheek, and went off to endure the necessary delay with what patience he could muster. . . . Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had.
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