She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently. Your own safety—the child's safety—depends upon your candour.
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