“I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. Sir John hesitated. ‘He was very kind to me. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. ‘He had run away with a Frenchwoman, you see, but Everett Charvill—I refer to the general—took care to conceal the matter. You do not understand, and you would like to. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. ‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly.
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