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” “I’ve been certain of it for years. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look as long as I live. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance.
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