“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. " "You did right," returned Trenchard. ‘Though he didn’t mean it. ” She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. “For no other reason than you talk too much. "Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened.
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