Rummage, my boy, do. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. The situation bothered him considerably. “I want some advice,” said Ann Veronica. ’ ‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her. And the Duke, too—I heard him say that a married secretary would be worse than useless to him. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively.
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