" As he spoke, several shots were fired from the upper part of the house, and two men fell mortally wounded. ’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath.
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