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’ *** 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. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. But it is my fault. He walked unsteadily towards the door. ToC Jonathan Wild, meanwhile, had quitted the house. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. She could not say a word, much less move. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today.
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