‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette.
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