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‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. Stanley, and went into his study. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. “Run in now. She may afford us some necessary information.
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