Maybe it’s his loss. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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