Wood. I kicked the living shit out of him. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know.
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