Beneath that tree let us lie. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. It wasn’t. Wood, who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. “I expected you this morning,” he said. The deafening report froze time.
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