’ Gerald laughed. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. She hated living like that. ’ ‘Unfair!’ echoed his junior. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. So am I. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket.
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