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"Ah!" exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. Oh God! my limbs fail me. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. He was there concealed, waiting her return. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. "What was it?" He was insistent. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees.
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