The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. It was everyone's favorite meal. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. “It rests with them by the nature of things. I would not have him know—now—for the world.
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