II. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. “I will believe you. "It's a mysterious transaction altogether. No, don’t interrupt me. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight.
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