’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. “Why should it matter?” he said. " "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. Hanging about! And they start thinking and asking questions, and begin to be neither one thing nor the other. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. Swiftly he looked back to Melusine and found she had whisked to the window, dragging a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily blowing her nose. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death.
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