Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. A little love from him would be enough.
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