They were in different key, they had a different timbre. Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her benefactor hesitated to pronounce the word. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. ‘And if you like, I will tell you why.
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