Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. This also struck her as odd. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. “My dear, can you see in this light? I think I would like to get in. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. She passed down the stairs and into the street.
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