“Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. Do help me, Lady Ferringhall. " Drama.
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