“See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. ’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled.
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