” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. ” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory.
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