“You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. She liked to do it for Cathy Beck, so that she could relax after waitressing all day at the Big Apple with a homemade meal. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. . Not then. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. I take the life out of men. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement.
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