’ He laughed. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. So I am already no longer the girl you knew at Morningside Park. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. Only the next of kin. \" \"All right. Parbleu, but what grandfathers I have!’ It was stalemate, Gerald thought, irrepressible amusement leaping into his chest. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom.
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