Page 83 - Secret Garden
P. 83
He reached his hotel by the light of a big silver moon, slept deep and dreamed that he could smell roses.
“Archie! Archie!” A voice was calling him:
“My darling? My love! Where are you?” he called. “In the garden! Look in the garden!”
When he woke, a servant stood by his bed
holding a letter from England.
Dear Sir,
I am Mrs Sowerby as lives on the moor: mother of your maid, Martha. May I make bold to say sir: It is time to come home.
Mr Craven got out of bed. Go home? Yes! The idea was not so unbearable. In fact, quite suddenly, he actually wanted to be there.
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