“Ask me nothing. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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