I had no curiosity of that kind. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. Nothing else matters. That’s the wonder of it. It was a simple wish. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. She listened, listened intently for several minutes.
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