” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. "Boat there!" cried a voice, which Mr. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. He had adroitly captured her and led her away from her other guests on the pretext of feigning an interest in her charitable attitude to the newly arrived French. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her.
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