‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. ‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime. Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. He smiled tenderly.
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