She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. Anna herself opened the hall door. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that.
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