"She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. ‘One thing at a time, missie. Mr. I cannot think he will welcome a French émigré for his granddaughter. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not.
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