Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. . ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. Good riddance to bad rubbish. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone. She rolled to one side.
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