‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. Her heart thudded. But what if she were to marry? He glanced towards the elderly dame and found her watching him, the dimple very much in evidence. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. Come to take leave. But most of all, I wanted to love. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. And empty.
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