The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. I'll think no more about her. I made the pies.
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