For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. She had remained patently unavailable to him. "I won't trouble you further, Jack," he remarked. The expression was wholly different. “I shot him. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more.
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