" "Leave us together, my good woman," said Jack, putting a guinea into her hand. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. ’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable.
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