She looked steadfastly out. She was shifting, moving back. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. He must be a sly fox to get out of the Mint without my knowledge. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself.
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