’
There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. She stole her
glances sideways like the rest of the women. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. I
mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just
now business is bad. He brightened as she took off her hood. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing
livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at
their back. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when
they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump
hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly
interested graciously vouchsafed her assent.
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