" "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. She’s so embarrassed about it that she only wears one-piece swimsuits when she tans outside.
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