’ Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. Before leaving the place he looked upwards, and could just discern the blue vault and pale stars of Heaven through an iron grating at the top. Vee’s all right. Love is a great thing, and happiness a joy.
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