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Updated: June 14, 2025
"You'd better stay and have some tea, Mr. Segerson," she invited. "John will take your horse and give him a rubdown." She changed her habit and, forgetting her guest, indulged in the luxury of a hot bath. She descended some time later to find him sitting in front of the tea tray in the hall. A more than usually gracious smile soon drove the frown from his forehead.
Tallente made only a monosyllabic reply, and Lady Jane, with a little gesture of apology, continued her conversation with Segerson. "I should like you," she directed, "to see James Crockford for yourself. Try and explain my views to him you know them quite well. I want him to own his land.
Several tracts of land which seemed prepared for winter sowing were covered with stones. The farmhouse yard, into which they presently passed, was dirty and untidy. Segerson leaned down and knocked on the door with his whip. After a short delay, a slatternly-looking woman, with tousled fair hair, answered the summons. "Mr. Crockford in?" Segerson asked.
Lady Jane held out her hand and smiled delightfully. "Do come in, Mr. Tallente," she begged. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. Now you will believe, won't you, that I am not altogether an idler in life? This is my agent, Mr. Segerson Mr. Tallente." Lionel Segerson held out his hand.
"There's snow coming," Segerson muttered, as he turned up his coat collar. "It won't do any harm," she answered. "The earth lies warm under it." The lights of Parracombe, precipitous and unexpected, were like flecks in the sky, wiped out by a sudden driving storm of sleet. A little while later they cantered up the avenue to Woolhanger and Jane slipped from her horse with a little sigh of relief.
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