” He stroked her hand gently. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. You do not understand, and you would like to. They took their places at a distant table. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. Spurlock bent his head to the rail.
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