“They have just taken this house from Lady Cellender. . Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. ’ *** 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. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. In their opinion a hundred pounds would not repair the damage done to the prison. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. “Who can tell?” she said. “What do you mean?” she asked. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. "I don't know," she answered vaguely.
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