Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. Most of all she enjoyed the gentle gratitude of her foster family members, even the teasing 7 of Mike, her foster brother, who liked to play food critic to give her a hard time.
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