With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. His body went limp, and as he withdrew she ironically found herself at the doorway for the first time in her life of being truly aroused. No pistols, no daggers today?’ ‘Would you have me show a pistol with so many soldiers? I am not a fool.
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