She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. ‘You will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew.
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