The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. He well knows that but two lives—those of Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland Trenchard,—stand between you and the vast possessions of the family. In the upper hall he paused to listen. ’ ‘I do not marry a man who makes me a threat like this,’ she flashed. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. He had deliberately saved it for last.
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