To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. And when she took and married that Mr Charvill, we didn’t think to see her at Remenham House no more. In truth, Sheila never saw Lucy murder anyone at all, she only saw the blood.
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