Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. Charvill does not believe the general will accept them. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing. I'll knock off at tea.
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