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‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. “To my chagrin, I have. We remember it. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. ” “You shouldn’t have made an engagement until you’d consulted your aunt. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you.
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