’ ‘It is you who will get the head blown off,’ threatened the young lady fiercely. ‘Merci, dieu. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. He refused. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear.
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