‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. It is useless to talk. “But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. To her intense disappointment, she discovered that all papers had been removed from desks and cupboards. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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