He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. Spit of your mother. I know you. ’ ‘Yes,’ agreed Lucilla excitedly, ‘and she has been telling us how much of a friend she was to your mother. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. ” “The explanation seems to me to be reasonably simple,” Annabel said coldly. . Brown broke the silence.
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