Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. It is not at all comme il faut. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. I am far too much the gentleman. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. She sat perfectly still, however.
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