Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. It’s kind of the World War II thing. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest.
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