You will have to tell me. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror.
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