‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. Capes would come to these teas; he evidently liked to come, and he would appear in the doorway of the preparation-room, a pleasing note of shyness in his manner, hovering for an invitation. We’ll be somewhere on the floor above. I'm about to leave this country for ever. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now.
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