He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. We both understood that.
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