Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. "I believe he's gone," he said, returning to Jonathan. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. I'm not particular what or where.
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