He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. "You have both," replied Wood, fervently. Come and see him, Lucia. And then suddenly—a relief. Lord, I am sixty. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire.
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