The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. Byby. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. .
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