One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. ‘If you did not want me to talk of it,’ she told him with characteristic insouciance, ‘you should not have mentioned the matter to me. He moaned. They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different. ‘I must get a handkerchief. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate.
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