‘Quite wrong, monsieur. Montague Hill do not interest me in the least. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. Fortescue, with a bow. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon.
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