’ *** 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. And when she went to sleep, then always Capes became the novel and wonderful guest of her dreams. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand.
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