"I dare not, Rowland," she answered. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. And by monsieur le baron, of a disposition entirely unforgiving, I do not desire to be recognised in the least. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently.
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