’ She focused on Gerald’s face. He nodded silently, too full for words. Full as she was of him, it felt good to shower her kill out of her hair. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his.
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