” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault.
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