The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. ’ 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. Drummond patted him on the shoulder. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. " Upon which, with an assurance that he would not do so, the attendant departed. It is positively hateful to think of it. It’s one of their worst traits, one of their very worst.
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