She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. You never can tell. I will shed no more blood. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. ’ The girl held out her hands. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. And my wife won’t live with me for reasons that I think most women would consider sound. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting.
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