He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. Rubbishy novels and pernicious rascals. ” “You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that under the cloak of her name I am earning more money a week than I could ever have earned in a year by my own labours. She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move.
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