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Hollo rumbled in his throat. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. It had ceased now, but as he closed in on the area, a faint muttering came to his ears. You’ve got to adjust yourself to the people God has set about you. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. . Fifty sent home. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy.
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