Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Shari was snoring soundly. She loves you too well for that. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. There is only Gerald to see me, after all.
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