” Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief. Mrs Sindlesham occupied a large padded armchair to one side of a corner fireplace, which gave out a heat more than adequate for September to one of the major’s robust constitution. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. She refused to sleep in the same room with him one night, kicking him in the shins. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. He had deliberately saved it for last.
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