She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. He was heartily thankful for it. To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent.
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