” Her heart had warmed toward him. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek.
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