The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. ‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. He declined to come in. The Return 231 II.
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