Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. "Nothing!" echoed the other, scornfully. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. You are nothing of the sort. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself.
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