You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth.
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