“I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. She heard him come in; the light burned on. Then came the great day. He’s dead. “I will not have this slavery,” she said. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut. 1.
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