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A Tale of Two Choices

"Very well then," grumbled Edmund and left the maid in his room to speak to his mother.

Lady Withenstrop was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She was a statuesque woman who could curdle milk with a stare. But for the moment she was all of a flutter, in the way that a piece of stone could be.

"You will never guess who is coming to the Ball, my own dear son..."