"Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. ” She paused for a moment. . . He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate.
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