It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. Sir John hesitated, and then continued. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. She felt the warm nearness of his. He turned. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy.
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