"I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. ’ I said. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands. She would never return to her father; that resolution was final. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips.
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