A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. But Michelle’s heart seemed to grow fonder to the subject proportionally to Lucy’s avoidance of it.
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