“You see, I will take your arm. Her tone was hoarse with passion. He’ll survive. She obeyed, extending her arm. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. “We will see that he doesn’t follow you. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position.
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