Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. “I’ve been through all that,” she went on, after a pause. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. . “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend.
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