She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. ” She said in Lucy’s direction. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. This girl was strong and vital: how would she take it when she learned that she had cast her lot with a fugitive from justice? For McClintock was certain that Spurlock was a hunted man. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. .
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