’ Gerald suppressed a grin. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway. But who would pay the ransom? There was no one left in his family. Spurling, drily. Thanks. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily.
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