” She shrugged her shoulders. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. 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.
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