’ Gerald turned and came back to her. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. “Here goes,” he said. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. “We’re going to be sensible. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. You have told me that you cared. "The sums lavished upon those people are perfectly disgraceful, and I should be enchanted to see them hooted from the stage. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler.
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