You will survive, mark my words. 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. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. “No, no,” she cried. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this.
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