Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. “I was watching you at Morningside Park, dear,” said Miss Miniver. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. This left Spurlock alone. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch.
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