A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. ’ Fury was in her face. ‘I was not born to this. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. "That's well," replied Wild, entering the house, and fastening the door. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.
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