She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. Beneath that tree let us lie.
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