CHAPTER I. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style. From what do you wish to be rescued?’ The girl fluttered her eyelashes, sighed dramatically and spread her hands. Amongst other things, he had just brought down an old laced bavaroy, a species of surtout much worn at the period. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks.
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