But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. ‘I rather suspect,’ added Prudence, ‘that Major Alderley’s motives were somewhat different. ‘It must be painful. When she awoke, the sun was high in Heaven. . "You'll find a waterman asleep under his tilt in one of them ere craft, if you look about, Sir," replied Ben, backing water as he spoke.
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