After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side. I won’t tolerate any foreign tongue in this house, least of all that confounded French. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. I do not know how I shall get it, but I must, you understand. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. Almost the best of all.
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