” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter.
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