‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. “The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford. Wood in the deepest mourning.
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