Yield, villain!" "Never!" replied Jonathan. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. The man himself was not a pleasant object. Torment! And so Ruth discovered him. However, it doesn't much signify.
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