“You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. "I'd lay down my life for yours. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come.
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