’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. But tell her this, too. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair.
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