“I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. Was not Gerald altogether on her side? He was, even though he played games like an imbecile, a person tout à fait sympathique as she had discovered at the outset. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. .
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