Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. Perhaps you will meet him someday. We men are like children. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. ” He stood still, looking at her. ’ ‘How was it then that Nicholas Charvill was known to have gone to France. Her father for fifteen years, and you now for the rest of her life! Tell her you're a thief. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment.
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