‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. ‘Never would he have gone to England. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. Oh God! pardon me.
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