"I am. ’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. Wood,—"he'll never mend. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. But I dare not accept it. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. ‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald.
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