’ ‘What heir?’ ‘Exactly. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. She winked at him as he shut the door. But all of that was forgotten. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Springing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the best of his way to Saint Giles's. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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