She ought to have leapt back on guard. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. "You mistake,—you are mine.
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