’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie.
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