If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. ” She thanked him with a look and rose to her feet. ” “Yes. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered.
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