“It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. 5. ’ ‘I am a very English man,’ Gerald said. I shan't let you off a farthing. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Her heart thudded. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it.
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