At once. 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. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman.
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