’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. Only her babe died. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. You act your part capitally, but it won't do. We will get on with the agreement and you shall have in it whatever rubbish you like. That’s the difficulty. He listened. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. ” “I don’t care.
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