Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. "I believe I'll tear them up. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow. ’” Anna made no remark. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers.
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