Proof that the scoundrel had risen from the dead—for he was dead to his father! He glared at the female whose appearance in England had revived those painful memories—churning unbearably since Brewis Charvill had brought him the news and put him in the worst of tempers—and the fury spilled out. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. " "You delight me with the intelligence," said the stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look. The lad hesitated.
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