“You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. I was curious about that. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl. The job is easy. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. He then made off. "There's another instance of your wilfulness and want of taste. "Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. It is useless to talk.
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