“Why should it matter?” he said. ‘Did you see the man?’ Gerald asked. She was quite unconcerned. “She must,” said Mr. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. And it is not at all his affair. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. It is dull—deadly dull.
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