Hill lost a little of his truculency. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart.
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