He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. Mrs. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her.
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