I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. ‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. Gianfrancesco never suspected that I had my own reasons for wanting you for my wife. The turning of the key startled her, but she did not see how she could make an objection. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees.
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