‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. ‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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