“Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing. ’ He glanced about and saw his quarry holding court at one end of the vast mirrored chamber. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off.
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