Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. Look at the poor victim at your feet. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. To Ah Cum, who was watching her covertly, the smile was like a bit of unexpected sunshine. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd.
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