Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse.
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