Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. “I don’t think I shall. Ah! she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. . . She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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