“So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. He slid out of her. “Have either of you been out of this room since you discovered what had happened?” he asked. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing.
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