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Cynthia did not look at him or she would have seen that he was rather baronial in aspect just then. Sad to relate, they were speeding down the Wyndcliff gorge without giving it the undisturbed notice it merited. "I have a kind of notion that Mrs. Devar wouldn't catch on to the boating proposition," she said thoughtfully.
Devar watched them with a hawklike intentness that showed how thoroughly those "forty winks" snatched while in the Wyndcliff had restored her flagging energies.
But as I had to decide the matter I preferred to travel in a car that was at my own disposal." Mrs. Devar dared not go farther. She relapsed into a sulky silence. She said not a word when Cynthia occupied the front seat for the climb through Chepstow's High Street, and when the girl turned to call her attention to the view from the crest of the famous Wyndcliff she was nodding asleep!
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