As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. “If you attempted such a thing it would be in order that I should smack you hard with the palm of my hand upon the cheek. "She wouldn't let me go. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. I am betrothed to Captain Roding, which is why you can’t have him, you see. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. Now you're up, take this spike. It generalized everything she put to it. ‘That’s right, you bone idle do-nothings. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
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