Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. And I have made such arrangements that at my decease tardy justice will be done my injured nephew. You go home and live on the G. ‘But I have told you. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans.
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