He was not due from the City until about six, and so she went and played Badminton with the Widgett girls until dinner-time. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. Wood. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. She was pensive and thoughtful. ‘I wish you joy of the wench.
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