“I am off to-night,” he said. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. She repeated this breathlessly. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks.
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