THROUGH THE POSTERN GATE
FLORENCE LOUISA BARCLAY
Sinopsis de THROUGH THE POSTERN GATE
"But it was not your niece! It was always you I wanted," said the Boy. He lay back, in a deep wicker chair, under the old mulberry-tree. He had taken the precaution of depositing his cup and saucer on the soft turf beneath his chair, because he knew that, under the stress of sudden emotion, china—especially the best china—had a way of flying off his knee. And there was no question as to the exquisite quality of the china on the dainty tea-table over which Miss Christobel Charteris presided.
