’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. From your pocket there. She returned to these latter, and at the back of her mind, as she looked them over again, was a very distinct resolve to quote them after the manner of Miss Garvice at the very first opportunity. . I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you.
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