Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. " CHAPTER XI. . Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. “Life—things—I don’t think her prospects now—Hopeful outlook. I’m off to England. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said.
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