We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone.
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