You’ve got me. What has been the matter?” “Toothache,” he answered laconically. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. ’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. Instead of which they walked sharply. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights.
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