F. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. This year—I’ve got it badly. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. I’ve told you that practically already. Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well?’ she said.
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