That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. “I have not quarrelled with her. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. " "So far you are correct," observed Trenchard; "still, this is no secret. She did this to please him. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that.
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