As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor. Gerald’s task was to stop him from doing so. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six.
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