Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. “Pretend,” he said, “that all I have said hasn’t been said. You are—horrible. Besides, she had admitted her identity. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. E. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval.
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