" "Everything. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. To receive him here afterwards would be most repugnant to me. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Got you interested in something, then? Would you like a peg?" "No. Nothing would induce me to marry you, or any man at present.
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