Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. .
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