Winter came at the manor. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. . Bête, she told herself fiercely. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. Creative work appeals to me wonderfully. ‘I was not born to this. . Mr.
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