He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. He was tall, slender, and suave. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. If you met her you would, I am certain, think her as fine as I do. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr.
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