But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. 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. ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. ’ ‘Alone, miss?’ ‘Certainly alone. But he may remain with you if he pleases: I sha'n't hinder him.
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