She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. ” “Not exactly. “Read this, John. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. Don't strip me quite.
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