"You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade. It was red and chapped. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground.
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