How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. Sheppard, paralysed by the threat. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. ’ She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. I think she might be up to something. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged.
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