We leave, just as lanned, on the last day of April. /y 1/ Richards stay is plete. My uncles prints are mounted and bound: he takes me to view them, as a sort of treat.
Fine work, he says. You think, Maud? Hmm?
Yes, sir.
Do you look?
Yes, Uncle.
Yes. Fine work. I believe I shall send for Hawtrey and Huss. I shall have them e— week? What do you say? Shall we make an occasion of it?
I do not answer. I am thinking of the dining-room, the drawing-room—and me, in some other shadowy place, far off. He turns to Richard.
Rivers, he says, should you like to e back, as a guest, with Hawtrey?
Richard bows, looks sorry. I fear, sir, I shall be occupied elsewhere.
Unfortunate. You hear that, Maud? Most unfortunate . . .
He unlocks his door. Mr Way and Charles are going about the gallery with Richards bags. Charles is rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.—Get on with you! says Mr Way savagely, kig out with his foot. Charles lifts his head, sees us emerging from my uncl……（内容加载失败！）
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