The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. “Will you come in, Sir John. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet.
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