That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. I will tell you this much, because you have been kind. " "Thames Ditton—is that your name?" "No," replied the boy, impatiently; "Darrell—Thames Darrell. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return.
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