And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. ‘Pitiful. She fled. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. ‘Say then, Jacques, you have followed him?’ she demanded of the blackgarbed footman. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her.
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