Wood—and after him came his daughter. The blue jaws suggested courage and tenacity. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. Never. “Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. "My enemy," replied her son.
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