If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. “I brought a man with me who is posted outside,” he remarked. Not much. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear.
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