‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. Capes spoke casually of their plans for work. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. "I must see him to-night. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair. ‘Oh, peste.
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