He reeled, and crashed to the floor. ” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. Not a breath was drawn. He had a wild impulse to shout. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. ’ He quirked an eyebrow.
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