Probably a sick man's whim. You’re a good friend. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Neither their mother nor Sebastian noticed, as certain members of the house had taken to avoiding each other.
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