‘Would you like me to enquire for your mystery lady, Gerald? I know the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme quite well. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. Mr. Why, honestly enouch.
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