“Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. “Let me know the truth. . ” Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess.
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