” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. During this period Sir Montacute has been gathered to his fathers. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. I shall make no defence. ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more.
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