Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. She had the dowry she needed for the lawyers were working to give her Remenham House. For a moment she remained silent. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner.
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