Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. ” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow.
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