He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Lucy sat beside him. dear. ’ He only laughed.
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