She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. ” “Hampstead didn’t suit Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison remarked. Wood. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. Will you go? You'll be paid handsomely for your trouble. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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