” Sir John acknowledged the introduction without cordiality. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. She was silent. Dollis Hill revisited. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. John knew everybody, it seemed.
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