It’s Providence. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. ‘All this gadding about. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Perhaps what I need is something to bite in.
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