‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. " "Oh, that!" she said, with a deprecating gesture. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. I got to have you under guard in the gatehouse, I can see that. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. " "I'll not forget it. ‘But I was not there.
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