Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. ’ ‘Did no one know, then?’ ‘No, for the vicomte, we learned later, wrote to General Lord Charvill in pursuit of his sister. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly.
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