"Do you mean to tell me he's come and gone in an hour? What the devil kind of a father is he?" Spurlock shook his head. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. Manning’s handwriting had an air of being clear without being easily legible; it was large and rather roundish, with a lack of definition about the letters and a disposition to treat the large ones as liberal-minded people nowadays treat opinions, as all amounting to the same thing really—a yearssmoothed boyish rather than an adult hand. He was there concealed, waiting her return. ‘Her purpose, if you will believe me, is to get herself a dowry so that she may marry an Englishman. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned.
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