” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. 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. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. ’ *** 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. “I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. His face fell. She has already given birth, thanks to your generosity.
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