She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. ” She lingered over her tea, and glancing around, a sudden reflection on the change in her surroundings from the scene of her last night’s supper brought a faint, humorous smile to her lips. ’ ‘I didn’t say I did not enjoy it,’ Gerald protested. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. \"Oh. "Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day. It was no use. I hope I may never come near her.
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