Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. But he reckoned without his host. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. He is extremely old—forty at least—and he has a belly excessively fat. "I forbid you to do that. He began to tell me something—and stopped. I saw him first a few months ago at Mrs. ‘But of course. My little maidservant will think that I am lost. Otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. " CHAPTER XXV.
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