‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said.
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