” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression.
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