” “Mr. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. “Was I that bad?” He asked. ’ ‘So I see. " "And you married me, knowing?" "I married the man who bought a sing-song girl to give her her freedom. " "You're fine, too.
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