’ *** 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. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him.
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