(“No, no. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. I can bear anything but suspense. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. You have actually given up a dinner-party to dine alone with me.
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