Her coming is a thunderbolt, her speech lightning. Lady Rodney changes color, and is for once utterly disconcerted.,
This is a betise of the first water. And Lady Rodney, who can hear—and is listening to—every word, almost groans aloud.,
"No, no; I think not. Come here, Geoffrey; do. It is the queerest thing,—like a riddle. See!".
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