She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. He handed Ruth a letter. ‘Oh, mon dieu. ’ ‘You always were an old sobersides, even as a boy,’ retorted the major, who was close on thirty now, yet as ripe for excitement as he had been on receiving his first commission at sixteen. They WERE weird. The imbecile. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate.
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