" "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. “You, too,” he said abruptly. There were shadows under his eyes. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. ’ ‘Hang it, Melusine!’ Losing patience, Gerald seized her by the arms.
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