The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants.
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