"My dear mother, don't say that," entreats the young man, earnestly, going over to her and placing his arm round her neck. He is her favorite son, of which he is quite aware, and so hopes on. "What is it you object to?",
In ignorance of the fact that Geoffrey has been hurt in the fray, she lays her hand upon the injured arm. Instinctively he shrinks from the touch.,
"One of Thomas's billet-doux, no doubt," says Geoffrey, dreamily, alluding to the under-footman, but thinking of something else..
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