Stanley, “just a moment. That's the only fault I know of. ” He took them from her and read them. Like the Valades, I imagine. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. “I do mean that,” she declared. “See you. Taking off his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chain to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and impeding his future exertions.
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