She was the High Priestess. Listen to me, Thames. ’ Roding gave a bark of derisive laughter and left the room. He had hurt her. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. It’s 180 endearing. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man.
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