’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain.
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