For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. “You will have some tea?” she asked. Squire and master. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans.
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