From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. Wood; but they never come now. She had learned this art in skirts, and knew well how not to be disadvantaged. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. But here I am to draw upon. You are to come home. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. ’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed.
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