She was no longer there. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. “My dear Anna,” he answered. The one fault, indeed, of this school of fiction for him was that it had rather a light way with parental rights. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. ” “And who made the arrangements for you, and sent you there?” Courtlaw asked. ” He said. “It is Rhea’s infant. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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