" Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti. ’ Both Valade and the granddaughter gazed at him blankly.
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