First, look at this glove. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. ” “It certainly was,” she admitted. “Well, rather,” said Ann Veronica. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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