’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. Maggot, dealing him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Then she came a few steps to meet him. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. You should have more.
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