Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. I cannot have my wife distressed or worried.
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