He was a stranger. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. . His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. ” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. You have misunderstood. It was easy to discover that he was a knave, but equally easy to perceive that he was a pleasant fellow; a combination of qualities by no means of rare occurrence. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. You say I know nothing.
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