" CHAPTER XVIII. Send you the shirt. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. On your own. Annabel, I was lying. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. .
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