You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. I'll knock off at tea. ” she said. I don’t believe any one could have traced us here. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. .
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