His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. “I want to make love for the first time tonight. You remember that you saw us at the Savoy a few evenings ago?” “Yes.
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