He left Remenham House immediately after his wife died, giving birth to their daughter. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. She was no longer there. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. But what I want to get at is this. Besides, it was not the lodgekeeper’s business to know that “other matters” included a reluctance on Gerald’s part to allow his little company to conduct the search without him, and he’d had an engagement this morning. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous.
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