He knew. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. I shall charge you five per cent.
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