’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. It has. As a rule their comings and goings were discussed with perfect confidence, but on this occasion they both felt that there was intent in her silence as to her destination. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging.
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