Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. ‘Certainly I have them with me.
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