’ *** 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. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her.
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