A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. ‘Not if I heard him aright. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. I suppose you came right out and asked him about his family?’ ‘Nothing of the sort. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. But I’m always trying to make things happen. A shudder rippled across his shoulders.
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