With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. I hated the stuff. He was officially in the nun’s employ, but Melusine had commandeered his services immediately on the discovery that he had conceived a passion for her. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. "As circumstances shall dictate, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan.
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