With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly.
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