‘Very. " "When you please, Sir," said Thames, coldly. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. Probably a sick man's whim. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke.
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