She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. "And when I further tell you," continued Jack, "that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began.
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