“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. After all, life had still its pulsations. “This has almost killed your father. ’ ‘I didn’t say I did not enjoy it,’ Gerald protested. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily. He was amused.
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