" "You did right," returned Trenchard. "You've won your wager. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. “You must send for the police at once, you know. " "And all the time you loved her?"—appalled. The tables were then cleared. "And the rings?" "Ja. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. So they fenced with smiles. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. “Let me see,” he said. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square.
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