Gerald lifted an eyebrow. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. On the present occasion, in anticipation of Mr. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. Mr. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words.
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