Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. ’ *** 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. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them.
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