I told him that
I was not ‘Alcide. "
CHAPTER XXV. . “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. ” He said. At least I imagine so, if
what Madame Valade claims is true. But I said I wouldn't drive a hard bargain with you, and I
won't. ’
Gerald shrugged. But, what brought you here?"
"Excuse me, Sir Rowland. "At the bottom of that big envelope I found this one. Thames," she urged, "the errand, on which you're
going, can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of mentioning it to my
father. ’
Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly
full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a
quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald
spoke of them. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a
greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the
Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains,
and openly despised golf.
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