There was a gentle rustling of skirts. ’ *** 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. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. "So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do. I have been used to living in apartments in Paris, but I suppose the system is different here.
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