You had better go to bed. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. Her first orders were to summon the rest of her servants to make immediate preparations for her departure for Lancashire. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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