” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. Mrs. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. "Shir Rowland Trenchard's affair— eh?" "That's it," rejoined Jonathan; "I expect him here every minute.
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