” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs. She felt like a dried-up old woman. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. After a while he spoke again. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie.
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