‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. ” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Yes, I can readily believe it. His hand flew across the paper. ” There was a moment’s silence. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. . ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald.
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