‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment.
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