” He looked at her very gravely. The late afternoon, en effet. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. ” He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster.
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