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Again she shook her head.
"It's not necessary. Yes, he is a little primitive. If he doesn't go to-morrow, will you take me to London?"
"I'm going to London anyway," said his lordship with satisfaction. "Do you wish me to talk to Hamon?" he asked anxiously.
"It isn't necessary," said Joan, and Lord Creith went back to his study relieved, for he hated any kind of bother.
CHAPTER VII
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Into the Storm
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She went straight up to her room, resolved not to risk a further interview with the man in whose eyes, even in the failing light, she had read the very deeps of human passion. She felt physically sick as she recalled those horrible seconds on the lawn, and she searched the drawer of her bureau for the key of the bedroom door, and, finding it, turned the lock—a thing she had never done before in her life. Then she sat down before her mirror, calmly to review a disturbing evening.
Predominant of the emotions which the night had called forth was the shock of the discovery about James Morlake. It could not be true; and yet Hamon would not have framed such an accusation unless it was well based.