“And of course you are my niece just as Annabel is, although I am sorry to learn that your conduct has been much less discreet than hers. ’ *** 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. If he wished, he could even take this inheritance from her. " "That kind of talk makes you sound like a white man.
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