What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. Then her fingers moved. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. ‘I have the means to compel you. His brows drew a little nearer together.
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