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She could even think of what had happened. ’ Gerald knew the caress in his voice was a trifle ironic. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. ” “For example?” “Your dyed hair. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. Now drop it. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. Since she was only seventeen when she had them, she didn’t deal with it very well. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told.
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