His light brown hair was almost crew cut short. ” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. The man lingered. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate. ‘You’re only making things worse, you little idiot.
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