It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. At least one of them was caught and put away. Meysey Hill—never your wife. . Oh God! pardon me. 1.
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