“But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking. She is curiously altered in many ways. Waving a white flag, naturally. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. She spoke slowly. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side.
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