” Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched teeth. ‘Ah, grandpére. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London.
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