Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch.
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