“I suppose, Mr. “It’s very good,” she said. ” Lucy reassured. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo.
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