. ’ *** 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. But the lady was not so easily won; and though she did not absolutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks.
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