They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. ’ ‘Because I like you, of course,’ Gerald said promptly. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on.
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