She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. . She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate.
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