Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. ” She laughed softly. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. That Mr. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it.
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