‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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