Save us!" he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her agitation. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. Even her debt to him was a triviality now.
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