Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. ‘The whole town is talking. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. Natives are queer.
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