’ Tears glistened in her eyes. Mrs. “I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. ’ *** 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. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. E.
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