The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. “I’m thirsty. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. " "I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him.
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