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Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. It was a brief solitude, however. Wood. Three short days. Mr. ” Her father declared there had been no difficulty. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness.
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