The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans.
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