‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald. Give him this letter, child, and bid him take it to the Lodge at Newgate without loss of time. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. “But about last night. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth.
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