It occasionally troubled the major that Hilary’s staunch loyalty had led him into hair-raising exploits at Gerald’s side, for he was perfectly aware that Hilary would not have dreamed of deserting him. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me.
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