She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. Anna passed serenely out. The Vorsack house bore the stamp of Diane in every visible spot. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. It isn’t illusions—for us. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. But I'm resolved to see Lady Trafford. She would have to leave very soon.
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