Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. “You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake. Is that it? I thought this very pretty.
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