’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. “I shall leave the flat to you and go to a hotel. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia.
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