’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. “No, I mean that we should assemble ourselves in case your parents arrive home. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Including the wings, it presented a frontage of five hundred and forty feet. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable.
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