‘Gérard, you are a great fool. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. ” She eyed him scornfully. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. They crossed the Channel in sunshine and a breeze that just ruffled the sea to glittering scales of silver. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear.
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