What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. “Excuse me a moment.
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