“And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. They crossed the Channel in sunshine and a breeze that just ruffled the sea to glittering scales of silver. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service. That's part of the bargain. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. Not MY affair. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1. You do not believe me.
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