His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. He pushed her back forcefully into her seat with his lips, his body automatically responding to her kiss. ‘Do not tell me he has escaped.
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