He knew she had been weeping. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. You don’t know about Mary because you live in Kent. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Rowland's plans were quickly formed, and as quickly executed. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question.
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