“Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. . “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. Sydney sprang up. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. She hesitated.
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