Mr. “Who can tell?” she said. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. I was visiting the royal family, as they sought me for a tutor for their sons over the summer. His voice now had lost its ironies. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. “Well,” she said. ‘I knew it.
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