’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. Her mother….
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