156 He followed, “Um, is it okay if we talk in private for a few minutes somewhere?” Cathy was quick to reply. I really must leave you now. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. You’re such a strange girl. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. She had felt very uncomfortable around him, grotesque. "Why it is astonishing, certainly," remarked Kneebone, "to find any woman constant—especially to a girlish attachment; but such is the case. ’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. “You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with a pseudo husband. He declined supper, but took wine.
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