The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. Take it, if I die. Such a time that it takes for them to go. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. ‘Dunderhead. " Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. Ennison listened, and he forgot where he was. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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