Nearly a fortnight had elapsed since Miguel’s unheralded advent at The Friary, and to all outward appearance it had made no difference to the smooth running of affairs in general. Lady Beth, with whom he was always a favourite, pressed him to stay as long as he liked, and he had promptly accepted her invitation and sent to London for some further contents of his wardrobe—“Since,” as he remarked, “a solitary suitcase cramps one’s style.” The initial storm which had occurred betwixt him and Nicolette had simmered dow…
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