No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. "I am content," said Jack. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. . Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone.
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