Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Here's a nosegay for you, my love," she continued, opening her basket, and presenting a fragrant bunch of flowers to Winifred, "if your mother will allow me to give it you. Sheppard. She was vaguely happy over this arrangement which put her in the wing across the middle hall, alone. But I never found any truth in the saying.
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