She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. ” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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