" Spurlock lowered his voice. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. ’ A radiant smile dawned. I had gone further than I meant to—with some Englishmen. Paris, 18. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom.
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