“You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. I want to stand between you and all the force and vileness of the world. Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford.
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