I would not think so of you, Marthe. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. He should never sufficiently be able to regret the return which they had made to her. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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