He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought. She was by his side. He looked at her, hurt. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. I am not French in the least. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. Was not Gerald altogether on her side? He was, even though he played games like an imbecile, a person tout à fait sympathique as she had discovered at the outset. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway.
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