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She was about to deny it, when Tom dug her in the ribs and muttered, ‘Gypsy tent.’
‘Mais I ‘ave thought that also,’ she drawled. ‘I am not sure for there is not light enough to see.’
‘It is your voice, I think,’ Jack said, and Tom stifled a chuckle and turned it to a cough.
‘Ah je me souviens,’ she said. ‘We — how do you say? — bumped outside the gypsy tent, n’est-ce pas?’
‘Of course.’ He seemed to accept that. ‘And did you learn anything of value from the fortune-teller?’
She gave a low chuckle. ‘If the ‘ag speaks true, I will ‘ave once more my fortune. She spoke of gold and jewels, and a dark man. I am to beware of ‘im.’
‘Did she say why?’ Tom asked.
‘Non. The crystal does not tell much for ‘alf an Engleesh crown.’
Having said as much as she intended to on any subject, she lapsed into silence and Tom took up the conversation by asking where the Marquis lodged. On being told he had rooms at Albany, he ordered the driver to go there first, saying he would then drop his cousin off before going home himself. When the Marquis offered to share the cost of the hackney, Tom said it was his pleasure; after all, his lordship had furnished him with excellent entertainment and it was the least he could do.
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