"I am content," said Jack. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. ” With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. And so Winifred understood him. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame.
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