It is you who took my name, not I yours. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. ‘But a spy I am not. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. One of the coolies held the paper lantern.
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