He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. " And she left the room with Blueskin, who very politely offered her his arm. “Let me help you,” he begged. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. He drew her away from this thought. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. And then as we went down you’d try to explain.
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