If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. You are afraid of the warmth in your blood. “Who is there to care and—John. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top of the mountain. There was a hint of tears in her voice. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively.
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