‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. "And now, Sir," he said, preparing to take his departure, "will you add to the obligation already conferred by informing me where I can meet with Mr. ’ ‘Oh, she is English?’ repeated Alderley, interest perking up. Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear.
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