She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. Wiped out, but for these. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. "She is in his power, and I am here, chained hand and foot, unable to assist her. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. Wood's advice and assistance, but the thought of the reception she was likely to meet with from his wife deterred her from executing this resolution. Then, there's Mr. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours.
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