" This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. “Not too bad. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. Even our coarseness. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald.
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