The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. She found a little difficulty in beginning. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion.
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