At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. ” He said. . Sheppard. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. If I let you believe I did not love you, and they found me, your shame would be negligible. But I am not indisposed to gratify you.
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