His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. ‘Long enough for you to see Frith for me. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return.
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