Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. Something in her tone made him look up. ’ ‘Very well, Melusine, you win,’ Gerald said unguardedly, and dug his hand into his pocket. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. She put her hand in his to be squeezed.
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