That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. Charcoal. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. ‘Now, madame, tell me all about your life in France.
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