" "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. A sob was strangled in her throat. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. In Larry’s old Cadillac sedan, she sat in the backseat as Larry drove and Cathy sat beside him. A maidservant held the front door open. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. "If you loiter in this way, old Wood will catch us. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. White assented. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all.
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