“Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. "Stir a foot, at your peril. Of course I knew all about him years ago, and he is exactly like everybody’s description of him. ’ Hilary stared. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford.
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