All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping.
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