She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. “There’s no one here except me. Run away now, please. Burn your palette and your easel. When Captain Darrell's birth is ascertained, I've no doubt he'll turn out a nobleman's son. “Well——” She stopped short.
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