Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. He tried this sentence with expletives. I’ve made an ally of her champion. At the first blow, Mrs. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. So proas loaded with nuts were always landing on the beach. Spurling, drily. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. —Gentlemen, your most obsequious trout. "Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be agreeable. .
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