‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently.
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