"But surely somewhere else than Sawyer's Cottage might have been found," Gwendolen persisted--taken hold of (as if in a nightmare) by the image of this house where an exciseman had lived.
"No, indeed, dear. You know houses are scarce, and we may be thankful to get anything so private. It is not so very bad. There are two little parlors and four bedrooms. You shall sit alone whenever you like."
The ebb of sympathetic care for her mamma had gone so low just now, that Gwendolen took no notice of these deprecatory words.
"I cannot conceive that all your property is gone at once, mamma. How can you be sure in so short a time? It is not a week since you wrote to me."

"But surely somewhere else than Sawyer's Cottage might have been found," Gwendolen persisted.
"No, indeed, dear. Houses are scarce. It is not so very bad. There are two little parlours and four bedrooms. You shall sit alone whenever you like."
The ebb of sympathy for her mamma had gone so low just now, that Gwendolen took no notice of these words.
"I cannot conceive that all your property is gone at once, mamma. How can you be sure in so short a time? It is not a week since you wrote to me."
