With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. "Would I had never seen either of you!" cried Jack, rising and pacing the apartment with a hurried step.
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