" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. Courtlaw, Mr. ’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. Sebastian looked up and stood. "Speak English?" boomed the voice.
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