Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. The Wastrel did not relish this. Stanley.
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