She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. You can give up thinking and leave all the brain work to her. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh.
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