And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to England. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling.
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