She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. ’ *** 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. ‘Idiot. Certain reserves went down on both sides. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. She had found him! Excitement welled. A species of vertigo seized him. . Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other.
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