It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. ” She commented. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. " CHAPTER V. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion.
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