Little by little, she stopped hating him. ‘She means thanks to you, General,’ Gerald translated automatically, forgetful of his old commander’s fiery temper. I hope we may never find her again. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Now go. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. Gosse was backing towards the table. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. Gerald lost his head.
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