‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. The others hurried to the window. ‘They eloped. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. You're alone, too, child. Go up and get my daughter so we can have some homemade pie. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. Upon this grateful animal she lavished that affection which was subtly repelled by its lawful object.
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