Her gratitude swelled within her. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. ‘He had run away with a Frenchwoman, you see, but Everett Charvill—I refer to the general—took care to conceal the matter. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace.
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