"Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. I'll go alone. Mr. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. I'll think no more about her. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet.
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