32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. ’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. ‘And so?’ she asked. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger. ‘Mademoiselle. I'll tote it myself. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. “I remember it very well indeed. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her.
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