‘Do that again,’ he said softly, ‘and I’ll make you sorry you ever came to England. ‘You see, unlike you, mademoiselle, your cavalier here would not wish to be arrested. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. Montague Hill. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. He's got the gift of the gab. I wonder if he really wants me to go home.
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