She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. She threw him his car keys. Then her fingers moved. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. God must love me, for he has guided me here. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. "England or France, London or Paris, it's all one to me, so I've you to command me. Lovers' confidences should be respected. What has she to with Constance Trenchard?" "Mrs. ” “Friends!” said her father.
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