What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. “You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said. But he didn’t marry her.
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