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Gerald grinned. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. He is coming here to tea. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. You forget that every one is going to the ‘Unusual’ to see her. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. "Please tell me whenever I am at fault. ” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone.
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