‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. You care for me just a little, I know. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. F. Sir John felt and looked several years younger.
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