‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. None saw, though all felt, his presence, and heard the thunder of his voice. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. You cannot depart hence. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. A lucky escape.
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