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But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing. There’s a great gulf opened, and nobody’s got any plans what to do with us. Do I blow off the head of a man with whom I am in love?’ ‘That,’ said Gerald, disengaging his hand and at last drawing her into his arms, ‘deserves a reward. She continued to fan herself.
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