His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. He felt her observance and warmed to it. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall.
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