She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. It is a serious accusation. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary. She rapped again, louder. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon.
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