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. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. She reached for the door handle.
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