‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. Morningside Park had been passive and defective; all this rushed about and was active, but it was still defective.
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