He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses. He’s dead. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. He had drawn a horrid picture of the fate that awaited mademoiselle when once the populace discovered her relationship to the Valade family. ’ She counted off on her fingers. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door.
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