At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. "Like a hero," answered Austin. ToC Mrs. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon.
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