‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. “I shot him. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. Only promise me this. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh.
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