‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. \" She whispered back. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth.
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