Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. This isn't your island, child; it's the great world. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. . The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. ’ ‘Yes, but when I think about this, I do not think I can do so,’ she said candidly.
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