‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. Not if I read her aright. Try and let him never regret it. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. A few minutes later Sir John left the room. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. She had been so young then.
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