‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. He said daring things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in her manner towards him.
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