I’m sorry. ‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald. CHAPTER XV. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. We have met before. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis.
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