They walked back to 118 hand in hand. "To be plain, then," said Winifred, "he has asked me whether I have any objection to you as a mother. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. Kneebone was attired in the extremity of the mode. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living.
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