At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. Voilà tout. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. “There is no doubt whatever about that. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. “I have not the least idea who he is.
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