” John peered at her as she went to him. ” She was silent. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. ‘It is necessary that one is at all times ready to protect oneself,’ explained the young lady flatly. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him.
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