‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. His face turned a dark crimson.
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