\" 66 She commented as more doors slammed. ‘If ever I met such a pair of lunatics!’ ‘Give me that, Hilary,’ Gerald said at once, ignoring his remark and reaching out for the handkerchief. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. It’s not you—not a bit. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. "The traps!" responded a bystander. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. " "I'm sorry. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. He smiled complacently. He raised her to a sitting position.
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